The Night of the Panther
by O2da3
Summary: After a devastating attack on Wakanda, the Black Panther must team up with Captain America and Iron Man to find the man responsible. The search coincides with the discovery of a terrorist plot that threatens to destory North America. Time is running out.
1. Act 1 Scene 1

It is a beautiful sunrise in Kingdom of Wakanda. A reddish gold sun rises above the horizon, casting a glow over the dew covered flowers and grass that surround and are distributed amidst Wakanda's buildings and skyscrapers. The elevated huts of its residential neighborhoods encircle the futuristic town center. The buildings themselves are unconventionally shaped, and are mostly oval, allowing the rays of the rising sun to envelop each of the buildings in a cocoon of stunning golden light. However the Pride of Wakanda, Wakanda's biggest, tallest and most important building dominates the city's skyline by shining the brightest of all in the morning sun. It is here, at the very epicenter of Wakandian science, culture, religion and history that the attack begins. A mother comforts her teen-aged son as they exit from its sparring grounds into the Pride of Wakanda's courtyard garden.

" You have failed to honor your family and house today."

The young man stares at the ground wordlessly. Shame is written across his face and uttered with every plodding step.

"Have you nothing to say for yourself? You come from a family of great warriors, men and women who have defended Wakanda from foreign invaders time and time again and you can not even make it into the top 50% of your combat class?"

His young face, marred by a swollen eye and an assortment of bruises, wrought itself into frustration as he tried to measure the words that he must say in response to his mother's criticism. Haltingly, he speaks.

"I… I am sorry Mamah. I will not fail our house again."

"You had better not… I will cover for you with your father; tell him that you fell ill. That will give you a few days to recover from your wounds, but I expect that you will use that opportunity to train for your next fight?"

"Yes Mamah, thank you, I will be victorious… I love you Mamah"

"Son, I too love you bu..."

The woman is cut off by explosions that rock the courtyard, infecting the morning's blue sky with a silver hue as the top eastern side of the Pride of Wakanda falls off towards the ground and explodes into rolling tide of dust spreading out to the edges of the city. A final explosion on the western side of the building causes the entire top half of the Pride of Wakanda to fall over. The crash and the destruction are absolutely devastating. Amidst the miasma of dust and rubble, a desperate cry rings out. It belongs to a young man, now a boy, searching for his mother.

"Mamah! Mamah! Where are you?"

The entire city complex is shrouded in grey dust, reducing the visibility of all those within to barely the reach of one's outstretched arm. As the boy digs into the dust and debris, his lungs and throat burn from incessant coughing, his nose runs with mucus caked grey dust, and his eyes water from irritation but are irrigated by the tears that he sheds. He eventually finds an arm sticking out from the dust.

"Mamah! _Cough-Cough _Mamah!"

He digs frantically into the debris surrounding the arm, finally reaching a large concrete slab. He stops to utter a small prayer.

"Great Panther, please grant me strength…"

He wraps his hands around the edge of the slab, tightens his grip and strains with every fiber of his being to remove it. As his muscles ache with tremendous effort, his heads and eyes turn towards the heavens, now obscured by a sea of impenetrable gray. Finally the mass gives way, and the stone slides to the side, revealing his mother underneath.

"NOOOOOO! Mamah! Please wake up!"

He picks up his mother's lifeless body, sobbing uncontrollably while doing so. The pain he feels is inexpressable.

"No… AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

In the thinning haze of the dust and debris a male silhouette approaches the boy and his dead mother with heavy plodding steps, drawing the boy's attention from his grief. The boy seems to recognize the man. Still sniffling and coughing, he addresses the shadowy figure.

"Combat master, combat master is that you? Please help me! My mamah, she needs help!"

A silence ensues. Within the shade of debris, the boy notices that something isn't quite right with the semblance of a man approaching his location. The silhouette's steps are heavy and slow, as that of an injured man but they are also listless, made without any apparent intent or purpose; as if whatever was approaching him was no longer living but dead. The walking dead. With grief transformed into uncertain fear, the boy entreats the figure once more.

" Combat master?"

The combat master is stooped over, his arms hanging listlessly at his sides, yet his head is cocked upwards to reveal blood-red eyes that burn with a focused rage that is directed like a laser at the young boy. The boy senses this_._

"Combat master?"

He loosens his grip on his mother as the combat master lets out a guttural roar that echoes through the ruins of the plaza.

"De… Demons!"

Fear transitions to terror as the boy drops his mother and runs away only to trip over a body after a few feet. He hits the ground hard.

"Ugh!"

The boy scrambles to his feet, only to bump into yet another body except this is one is standing.

"N'Gela?"

N'Gela is stiff and unresponsive, he doesn't not acknowledge the boy's presence in any perceptible way as he desperately pleads for his companionship and aid.

"N'Gela, it's me, we have to get out of here! There are demons! Do you hear me? De…"

Words are cut short as N'Gela grabs the boy by the throat, lifting him off the ground. He then slams the boy back to the ground with unbelievable force, kicking up a small cloud of dust as his body slides several feet away. The world has gone dark for the boy as he weakly opens his eyes to see a dark grey and silver sky. He turns his head to see his former friend, N'Gela, approaching him with deadly menace. N'gela is joined by the combat master and both their eyes are blood red with malicious intent. The boy realizes he is going to die, and that his death will be at the hands of those he knows and trusts. The last thing he sees is N'Gela's hand reaching for his face as his eyes close and everything fades to black.


	2. Act 1 Scene 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This scene references other fictional works outside the marvel universe, including but not limited to Alan Moore's WATCHMEN, DIE-HARD, and the TERMINATOR. None of these are my intellectual property. All references are in fact an intentional homage and not plagiarism. Enjoy.

In the dead of night, a solitary man walks down the alleyways of an abandoned warehouse district in a decaying city. The streetlamps are mostly destroyed thanks to meth and crack addicts who populate the shadows waiting for their next score, be it blood or cash. The man is somewhat finely dressed, wearing a dark-brown trench-coat with its collar popped-up against the chill of the night. In the neck of his coat, which he has cinched with a dark-brown sash at the waist, is a cream white chiffon scarf. The scarf is the only thing he is wearing that is truly visible; the rest of his body is a mottled gray as the shadow of his dark-brown fedora, as well as his navy-blue, almost ultraviolet shoes and gloves co-operate in camouflaging the rest of his body in the darkness of the alley. This is an abnormally dressed man, in an abnormal part of town, at an abnormal time of night. What is most unusual though are the things he mutters to himself as he briskly rounds the corners of the alleys, things that make even the crazed addicts looking for easy cash decide he's more trouble than it's worth…

"Hobo in alley this morning, smelled of gangrene and stale piss."

He comes to a sudden stop in front of a dilapidated 3 story warehouse. It is largely nondescript except that one of the upper office windows is lit up with what appears to be incandescent light coming from within. Highly unusual for an area of the city that's been without power for several years.

"This city is afraid of me; it's seen me naked."

He reaches into the breast of his coat to pull out a one-handed grappling gun. He steadies his aim with his opposite hand and aims slightly above the roof. As he pulls the trigger, high-pressure gas fires the grapple-head into the night sky. It crests over the roof of the building and lands amidst the air ducts and water pipes with a clanging noise. The pipes groan a little under the tension of the hook's steel-fiber cable, but the hook holds. The man is already using the gun to ascend the wall as he continues his monologue.

"The streets are extended gutters, full of blood, and when the blood globs over, all the rats will drown."

He reaches the top of the warehouse, and climbs over and unto his feet. He removes the grapple-head from the pipes and hooks it into the lip of the roof. After he tests the grip, he grabs the gun with both hands and stands on the edge of the roof, looking over the edge at the lit-up window about half a floor below.

"The accumulated filth of their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout 'Save Us!' And I'll look down and whisper… YIPPEE KI YAY MOTHERFU-"

Meanwhile in the office below, a well dressed man with coifed hair and a mild athletic build sits in a well padded office chair while his legs are crossed. He is dressed in a white tuxedo shirt and black bowtie with light green suspender straps that hold up a pair of jet black pants. His shoes are incredibly white, matching the crispness of the white dinner gloves that currently form a triangle with his fingers, obscuring over half of his face. They do not cover his eyes though, which are dark blue with Machiavellian malevolence. He is kept company by four HYDRA Sentries dressed in green and black combat armor. They have automatic guns at the ready but stand at their stations in each corner of the room in total silence. The man in the suspenders lowers his hands to reveal a ghastly scar running from the left side of his jaw and over his lips. His attention seems to be diverted by something.

"Gentlemen, our guest has arrived."

"UCKER!"

The office window explodes into thousands of pieces which scatter across the room as the trench-coated man swings in yelling at the top of his lungs. He does not waste any time, grabbing a piece of the newly shattered window in mid-air and using it to takedown one of the guards. He then uses the guard's body as a human shield against the onslaught of automatic gun fire as he grabs the guard's weapon to return the assault. He takes out two of the remaining guards with his new gun and uses the remaining rounds to destroy all the lights in the room. The sudden darkness causes the final guard to go into a panic as he shoots hysterically across the room, causing flashes of muzzle fire to echo off the walls. In his terror the guard gravitates towards the broken window, the only source of light in the now darkened room. This would be his last mistake.

"Ground floor, coming up."

A body is flung towards the remaining guard, catching him completely off balance. The impact of the body combined with his unbalanced position sends them both flying through the window and to their fates. Once again silence fills the room as the trench-coated man approaches the window to retrieve his grapple gun.

"Expertly done. I never get tired of watching you work."

The agent spins around to point the muzzle of an automatic rifle directly at the bow-tied man's head.

"You're not going to shoot me."

"You weren't here earlier… Why didn't I see?"

"I didn't want you to; because I do not trust you; because though you are effective you are clearly defective and should have been terminated as soon as you were activated. Take your pick."

"I'll take 'Trustworthy faces' for 500 Alex."

"And your pedantic sense of humor, sophomoric at best, bordering on retardation at worst; That, I truly do not appreciate… Do you know why you're here?"

The agent looks off to his right and begins to converse with empty space.

"You may be wondering whether he realizes I'm pointing a fully automatic weapon at his face right now."

Annoyed, the contractor inquires "Who are you talking to? _Sigh_, I see you need a little convincing, please try to lower your weapon?"

The agent slowly lowers his weapon, this time pointing it directly at the contractor's crotch.

"There, is that better?"

"Hmm…"

The contractor tosses two files at the trench-coated man's chest, one red, one yellow. They are caught and read by the agent while the contractor begins to brief the agent on the particular of his mission.

"That is your assignment. Please try to travel to Wakanda and meet the contact detailed in the red file. You are to share the details of the red file and the red file ONLY with your contact. He will help you install the explosives necessary for you to execute the mission in the yellow file. Upon completion you will transport the materials to the locations listed in the yellow file. Do you understand?"

The agent suddenly breaks into a tune from a popular children's television show about aquatic creatures living in an underwater metropolis.

"F is for fire burning in the city, V is for Vibranium Bomb, N is for nigg..."

"I'm just going to assume that is your way of saying yes. Now please try to leave."

The agent closes the files and put them away into the breast of his coat while still pointing the rifle at the crotch of the contractor.

"I can't wait for the day that you outlive your usefulness. You owe me a debt that will be repaid."

The agent turns his head off to his right side again.

"Seriously, how does he not see this? Gun", He points at his gun, "Nuts" he then points at the contractor's crotch, "Gun, Nuts, Gun…"

"Leave. NOW!"

The man in the trench-coat slowly approaches the seated man. With each step the contractor loses more of his debonair cool and becomes more anxious. Eventually, when the muzzle of the gun is mere inches away from its target, the contractor face has devolved into a combination of fear, loathing and rage.

"What do you think you're doing? YOU CAN'T HURT ME!"

The agent seems to snap back to reality from a waking dream.

"Why would I hurt you?" He clears the rifle's chamber and removes the magazine. "I just wanted to drop a hot metal present in your lap." He then drops the unloaded gun onto the contractor's uncrossed legs.

The agent swiftly moves to the office door, exiting through. As soon as he's gone the contractor stands up and looks through the empty doorway. In one hand he holds the automatic weapon away from his body like a used tissue and with the other he puts the stray strands of his hair from his anger fit back into place.

"I will enjoy killing you."

From far off the agent replies "not as much as I will."


	3. Act 1 Scene 3

Wakanda is dead. The green vines and great trees that once populated the landscape are now dark-brown husks. The flowers that once glimmered with more colors than the rainbow as well as the deep green grass are now a brown mush that is barely recognizable as vegetation, much less life. The world is quiet. Even the agonizing groans of the dead and dying, mingled with the enraged screams of the vibranium infected have come to an end. All that is left is the sound of silence.

Amidst the devastation, there is movement. Trudging through the debris are teams of two and three making their way from the Pride of Wakanda to the perimeters of the city. They are dressed in yellow contamination suits with black gloves and carry foam guns which they use to neutralize radioactive hotspots throughout the landscape. They trod over the dust and the bodies buried within.

Under the earth, in a hermetically sealed system of vaults and bunkers, what remains of Wakanda survives. It is in one of these vaults, one dedicated to the military and royal family that we find the Black Panther, king of Wakanda. He's walking down an empty hallway in full ceremonial apparel, his panther cowl over his face, vibranium-alloy claws on his fingers. At the end of the hallway, he is met by two soldiers guarding a door; they slightly bow and step out of the way. The Black Panther opens the automatic door to reveal a chained and severely beaten man, barely holding on to consciousness. The Black Panther stands in the doorway, looking down at the man. His thoughts are unreadable through the shadow of his mask. He then moves a steel chair over to the chained man's side and takes a seat, leaning forward towards the man as he does so.

"Congratulations…"

The beaten man looks up at the Black Panther, surprised by his words.

"You have managed to achieve what no one in 10,000 years of this nation's history has done. You have defeated Wakanda."

The prisoner flashes a pathetically weak smirk.

"But you have not destroyed us, and that will be your undoing… Who did you work for?"

He stops smirking and returns to staring at the floor.

"We have already beaten you to the edge of death several times; Your body can't take much more damage. The next beating will probably kill you, and I can't allow that… yet."

The Black Panther then rises out of his chair to stand in front of the prisoner.

"M'Baku, I know that you are a descendant of the ancient royal families, and that affords you some privileges that few others have in our society, but you have betrayed your country. You WILL die. The only things you can control are when, and how much pain will be involved. I will use whatever means necessary to get the information I want… even devil root."

M'Baku's swollen eyes widen a little with fear. As tears begin to well, he looks up from the floor to only find the Black Panther's unforgiving mask. M'Baku strains to speak;

"Please… No…"

"Your testimony will be affected by pain, but unclear information is better than none at all. The pain will kill you in the most agonizing way possible. It starts with a headache so intense that you will lose all voluntary control of your body and go into apoplectic seizures strong enough to tear muscle from bone. Your organs will then rapidly dissolve into an acidic soup which will then boil out of every opening in your body;"

The Black Panther suddenly drops down to his haunches and picks up M'Baku's face toward's his mask.

"And I do mean _every _opening. Finally your lungs will fill with blood and fluid, causing you to slowly drown. It is a pathetic end, yet it is far from what you deserve. Will you speak?"

M'Baku, his voice raspy and weak responds, "T'Challa I… I can not…" Hanging his head in resignation he continues, "I want to, but I can't."

"I see…"

The Black Panther then waves a guard over, prompting the retrieval of a mahogany box which is opened to reveal a dark brown root with silver streaks that run along its length. The Black Panther pulls out a sizable hunting knife and cuts a piece off the root which he then force feeds M'Baku, holding his mouth and nose with one hand until he swallows. The Black Panther then stands up and steps backward into the shadows of the cell, the dim silverfish glow of his eye pieces the only thing visible to M'Baku's pleading eyes.

"May the Great Panther curse and devour your spirit"

At the hearing of these words, a certain peace descends on M'Baku. Resigned to his fate, he chuckles cynically but his laughter is cut short by broken ribs.

"You and your 'Great Panther'! Tell me, when you cut off the Panther's head does it grow another? Soon you will learn that there is only one creature you should fear, Hail Hy-aAAAAAAHHHH! AHHHHHHH!"

The Black Panther exits the cell as M'Baku begins to spasm and scream in pain behind him. The cell door shuts rapidly and M'Baku is left to his fate. The Black Panther then enters an elevator containing a stationed soldier as an attendant. The soldier hits the elevator's button without saying a word. After a short period of meditative silence the Black Panther arrives at the emergency throne room. He exits the elevator and passes through a secret door, from which he accesses biometric scanners, security stations, and a vault door that is only opened by his vibranium-alloy gauntlets to enter the sanctum of the Black Panther. In addition to a magnificent statue of a panther made of onyx and vibranium, varieties of the Black Panther's costume over the past 10,000 years of its history line the walls of the sanctum from top to bottom. Each suit is on a statue and each statue represents every Wakandian that ever donned the mantle of the Black Panther. T'Challa approaches one of these statues bearing a face that is similar, almost identical in fact, to his own.

"I was not strong enough."

These words, whispered into the statue's ear prompt T'challa to slowly removes his cowl, holding it in his left hand as he hangs his head in what looks like shame. Suddenly, in a move of inhuman swiftness he punches a section of wall next to the statue repeatedly until the sturdy bedrock crumbles to pieces under the relentless attack. As soon as the rock breaks, T'Challa stops and examines his right fist. It is bloodied and misshapen as T'challa has actually broken several bones in his hand during the assault. As T'Challa opens his fist he grimaces in pain but relishes it as well, feeling that it is merely the beginning of what he deserves for his failure. He lowers his broken hand and looks the statue in the face.

"Wakanda will have its revenge."

T'Challa turns about to approach the base of the onyx Panther statue where a heart-shaped herb grows. Dropping his cowl, he takes a petal off the bush's only flower. After eating the petal he then turns towards a ceremonial stone table at the bottom of stairs that lead up to the panther statue. Laying his body upon the table, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, to meditate.

A mocking voice whispers from the shadowy recesses,

"Your 'Great Panther'..."

T'Challa snaps his eyes open to see M'Baku crouched over his body, holding a sharp piece of rock to his throat. "This can't be? M'Baku is dead! I saw it happen with my own eyes, I fed him Devil root!"These are the thoughts that populate T'Challa's mind when he suddenly realizes he is unable to move, unable to speak, unable to breathe. M'Baku, knowing that T'Challa is completely under his power, smiles satanically and opens his mouth wider than should be physically possible. He then proceeds to devour T'Challa headfirst. Within M'Baku's mouth, T'Challa sees destruction, disaster, sickness and despair as the grey cavernous mouth closes over his face until all he can see is gray. Inside T'Challa's mind clouds of silver grey mix and turn as snippets of the past, present and future flash like lightning among thunderclouds. Some flashes reveal the past of Wakanda, the wars between the tribes, and the rise of the Panther cult. Most are personal, showing T'Challa as a child. His father is heavily featured in most of these vision flashes, as he is shown teaching T'Challa and his cousins legends of kings and black panthers past, urging them to train their bodies and minds to defend Wakanda's borders. He sees the strict lessons his father taught him about the dangers of being unprepared, and the story of how T'Challa's mother died from childbirth because of the use of ineffective traditional medicine. As these scenes flash and disappear into the murky haze, a singular point of light, once dim but now grown into a bright white orb, comes to the foreground. Its presence causes the visions to flash more intensely than before causing everything to be enveloped by stunningly bright light that quickly gives way to an absolute darkness.

"Hello? Where am I?"

A familiar voice whispers to T'Challa in the dark.

"Be Quiet! The panther is one with the night as he stalks his prey."

"Father, is that you?"

T'Challa is surprised to find that he is no longer a man. He is almost two feet shorter, and his arms and legs are skinny with practically none of the muscle mass and definition he had gained from years of physical training. As strange as the situation is, it's also familiar. The light jungle winds whispers to T'Challa…

"Does it grow another?"

T'Challa's father, T'Chaka speaks once again.

"Ready yourself. The creature approaches!"

T'Challa realizes that both he and his father are in the boughs of a tree several feet off the ground. The moon is a bright yellow and the smell of lavender and orchids are rich upon the air. Up ahead in the bushes, a creature stirs the vegetation. Each tremor of the leaves under the glow of the moon is accompanied with an odd swishing sound. It all comes together for T'Challa now, he knows this night.

"NO! Father, wait!"

His cry too late, T'Chaka leaps from the branches of the tree into the bushes, machete in hand. T'Challa remembers things so clearly now; he remembers the amazement he felt when he first saw his father leap into those bushes. It was a wonder that quickly turned to horror when T'Chaka was killed before his son's very eyes.

"It can't happen, not again."

Knowing that his body could not handle the impact of a fall from such a height, T"Challa chooses to quickly clamber down the tree, misses a foothold and falls the last few feet onto his back. The impact knocks the wind out of him, and as he struggles for air, the fight between his father and the intruder continues in the bushes. Suddenly, a low-pitched boom rings out and T'Chaka is flung out from the foliage and lands in the clearing, mere feet away from where T'Challa is gasping for air. The moonlight sings.

"Soon you will learn..."

Out of the bushes comes a creature of shadow. It is an amorphous blob bearing no resemblance to any recognizable object, yet is seems to slowly approach T'Chaka. As the creature closes in it extends and wraps a tentacle of darkness around his throat. Seeing this, T'Challa forces his oxygen-deprived body to its knee and leans against the trunk of a tree as the shadow raises T'Chaka's body off the ground. T'Chaka then returns to consciousness and uses the machete still clutched in his right fist to cut the tentacle, causing him to fall to his feet. The severed limb of the monster fades into smoke and nothingness, but the remaining stump suddenly grows and splits into two tentacles. One of the tentacles wraps itself around the wrist of T'Chaka's right hand and squeezes with enough force to make him drop the blade. The other coils around his throat, resuming its task of strangulation. T'Chaka grips the tentacle with his free arm and his feet flail in a desperate attempt to find a foothold, but it is too late. The tension of the tentacle on T'Chaka's right arm dislocates it, causing him tremendous pain, but the tentacle around his throat has so thoroughly shut off his air supply that he can't even cry out in pain. T'Challa watches helplessly as the monster drops his father's now lifeless body to the ground, and begins to retreat back in direction from whence it came. He stumbles over to the corpse, searching desperately for any signs of life yet knowing that there will be none.

With tears and sobs upon his voice he cries "No! Not again?"

T'Challa feels the grief of that moment wash over him, drowning him in despair. He remembers how lost he felt; how alone. He also remembers how quickly that pain turned to anger, as he turns his fury on the still retreating shadow. Standing to his feet, he picks up T'Chaka's machete and yells:

VENGEANCE IS MINE!

T'Challa takes a running leap at the shadow and swings the machete wildly at the monster, cutting its tentacles and anything else T'Challa can get his blade on. In his rage, he doesn't notice that with every successful strike, the monster only grows more arms, becoming larger. He is eventually overpowered as his weapon is knocked away and tentacles begin to coil around his body. As his face is covered by the darkness of the shadow arms, he hears a voice…

"When you cut off the Panther's head, does it grow another? - There is only one creature you should fear…"

In the sanctum of the Black panther, below the irradiated streets of Wakanda, T'Challa's eyes fling open. The herb has had its effect. Black Panther's physique is more developed, his hand is completely healed and now, he knows his enemy.

"Hail Hydra."


	4. Act 1 Scene 4

S.H.I.E.L.D briefing

In the sky, several thousand feet above sea level, floats the most advanced military deployment vessel known to mankind. S.H.I.E.L.D's helicarrier houses a number of advanced state of the art facilities. The least of which are its combat training rooms with solid light hologram projectors, allowing any sort of combat situation, no matter how unlikely, to be simulated right before your eyes. It is in one of these rooms that Steve Rogers, better known as CAPTAIN AMERICA, fights with holographic projections of both Bruce Lee and Cassius Clay. His fight is in progress when a ping indicates that there's a message for him.

"Computer, hold program."

At Steve Roger's command, the holographic projections freeze, leaving Cassius Clay in the middle of a haymaker and Bruce Lee at the beginning of a roundhouse kick. He then approaches the door of the holo-room and waves his hand over it, making it fade into nothingness. Stepping into the locker room to retrieve his comm. set, he places it in his ear and receives the call.

"Hello?"

"Cap, there's been a situation, I need you in the war room by 0720."

"That's five minutes from now, and the war room is several decks up…"

As soon as he finishes his protest, Steve smiles mischievously.

"I'll see you in three."

Turning off his communications headset, Steve issues a program termination command to the holo-room. This causes the holographic projections to disappear, and the holo-room's door to reappear sealing it then grabs a S.H.I.E.L.D hooded sweatshirt and hurries out of the locker room. By the time he exits he already has it on. He leaps over a railing to fall one floor and into a roll from which he rises to continue his brisk jog towards one of the high speed elevators. As soon as he notices that the elevator doors are closing and Steve executes a handspring cartwheel to make it through the doors just in the nick of time. His sudden acrobatics catch the eye of another S.H.I.E.L.D operative in the elevator; she is clearly surprised by Steve's behavior but says nothing. She instead turns to salute him at attention.

"At ease."

At his command she relaxes.

"Please get the floor for Command."

Instantaneously, the operative reaches towards the elevator button panel to call the floor. As the elevator whisks away Steve stares off into space. He thinks about how much more complicated the world has become. He was just fighting solid light and air not even a minute ago! He thinks about how unnatural his life has been, from the transformation of a scrawny teenager who only fought battles in the pages of his favorite war comics to Captain America, first agent of the Allied army's special forces against the Axis powers. He thinks about how a tragic accident on his last mission cost the life of Bucky, and incarcerated him in an icy tomb; His body to be retrieved and revived several decades later, leaving him trapped in a world far beyond his time to which he has once again been called to serve. Steve Rogers is merely a fading ghost of a simpler past, a past that can no longer exist. Something tells Steve that from the day he was injected with that Super Soldier Serum, Steve Rogers was put on ice, only CAPTAIN AMERICA remained… At this final thought the elevator's doors open and the Captain steps into a buzzing hive of operatives and equipment that comprises the command complex. He glances at his watch.

"Less than one minute left, better hurry…"

S.H.I.E.L.D Command Center is a multi-leveled open atrium buzzing with activity. On the first level, where Cap just arrived by elevator, there are at least a hundred SHIELD data officers and technicians monitoring the conditions of the ship's communications, defense and engine systems. This group makes the necessary adjustments to ensure that the Heli-carrier remains fully operational and is known as First Echelon. Cap quickly makes his way through First Echelon and climbs the escalator to the second level. The second level is the intelligence center of S.H.I.E.L.D as it is where mission analysts and field support officers are at work collecting all the data transmitted from the field into dossiers and files for S.H.I.E.L.D's memory banks. It's not the most exciting job, but it is privileged and absolutely essential to the function of S.H.I.E.L.D as an espionage and counter-intelligence agency. It's here that Cap's stopped by an intelligence officer that deliberately stands in his way. She's a particularly assertive and ambitious officer that is known as Hill, Maria.

"Captain Rogers, you seem to be out of uniform."

The Captain, looking over Maria's head to the steps leading to Third Echelon responds absent-mindedly.

"Yes, I'm in a bit of a hurry –"

"You're not seriously about to go into Third Echelon wearing your sweats?"

"I don't have time for this. Move. Now."

At the firm and direct tone of his voice, Maria knows that she has overstepped her bounds. She may think that Captain America is given too much latitude as S.H.I.E.L.D's golden boy, but she's military born, bred and raised. No matter what you may think of the man beneath the uniform, you always, _always_ respect the rank. Grudgingly, she steps out of the way and says through gritted teeth,

"Yes, Sir."

The Captain runs up the last escalator to the third floor of the Command Center, known as Third Echelon. This is where commanding officers brief and debrief all field operatives for missions executed by S.H.I.E.L.D. It also holds the Heli-carrier's war room where Nick Fury, executive director of S.H.I.E.L.D, convenes with his commanding officers to strategize battle plans that repel and neutralize any super-human threat to America's safety and security. Cap steps into the force field barrier that surrounds the war room while meetings are in session. As the field puts him into stasis to perform a bio-metric scan, Cap wonders how many minutes it's been since he left the locker room. The barrier recognizes that Cap has been authorized to attend the ongoing session and releases him from stasis and into the receiving area of the war room. As he approaches the door and is about to place his hand on the door's recognition panel, it immediately opens revealing Nick Fury in his operational uniform, with an unlit cigar in his mouth.

"Bout time you got here! Have a seat scout, we've got some serious issues to work out."

"Uh, Sure"

The Captain hastily grabs a seat next to Senior Command Chief Dugan. Fury continues,

"Let's get you caught up to speed; At approximately 0655 an attack was launched on Wakanda by an unknown agent, and it was successful."

"T'Challa…"

"Seems to be fine, or as fine as you can be when someone knocks down your front door with not one, but two vibranium dirty bombs. They've already identified an attacker; Man-Ape, one of the Panther's oldest enemies, but it's the other guy, the one that managed to steal large quantities of Vibranium from the mound buried beneath Wakanda that we can't get a bead on."

"How much Vibranium did they take?"

"Something close to 1.5 metric tons of the stuff. Here's the kicker though, the guy managed to remove and transport all this vibranium by himself without being recorded on any of Wakanda's surveillance equipment! We only have a couple of eyewitness reports to go on for a description."

At this statement, Dugan pipes up, "I still think that this sounds a bit like Castle." Fury responds,

"I know, but we checked and Frank is most definitely still dead, although it wouldn't be the first time a schmuck has managed to crawl out of a grave and cause some trouble. Plus, Frank may be a homicidal maniac, but he's not in the habit of murdering civilians."

Captain America asks "HYDRA?"

"I guess all my talk about crawling out of graves clued you in eh? Yeah, that's what we're currently thinking, that this mystery guy is somehow connected with a splinter group from HYDRA. Intelligence says they hired this man to do the job."

"The list of people able to pull off an attack like this isn't very long, and it gets even shorter when you take out all the people who would never work for an organization like HYDRA."

"I know, that's why we think that a resurrection was involved. This mystery agent is more than likely superhuman, perhaps even a mutant."

After a moment of thought the Captain responds,

"So what do we do? Where am I going?"

"That's where things get really hairy. All investigations into this sub-group have come up with little to no intel, and all our infiltrations have been absolute failures."

"Why?"

"These guys appear to be farmers, they grow crops, package and ship their goods through a local processing center. Yet they seem to have advanced brainwashing and retraining techniques. Every single agent we've sent into the field stopped reporting. When we recovered these agents they had forgotten everything about their identity and have been unable to recover it ever since."

Command officer Dugan elaborates, "Mental shields don't work; the intellect's still there but there's no twinkle in the eye, nothing to let you know that they're still in there somewhere. They're wiped clean."

"Tabula Rasa. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, there's a chance that you won't be coming back from this one. But you're the best we've got, and we've the best supporting you. Speaking of which, there's someone you need to meet..."

Fury's words catch the Captain by surprise. Fury is normally straight forward at briefings so the cryptic nature of Fury's last statement piques the Captain's interest.

"Who?"

"You've worked with him quite often but never on a job like this. He's gonna be your tech support, making sure that we got a back-up of your brain in case things go bad."

Captain America takes a second to think, and when he puts two and two together, the realization causes him to object with exasperation.

"Oh no... Not him? He's barely tolerable on our Avenger missions! You can't expect me to depend on him to save my memory?"

"You're going to have to, He's the only one in existence who's been able to transfer biological memory into electronic data and re-upload it successfully. He's only agreed to work with us on this because of you Steve."

Steve Rogers spends a moment in deep thought contemplating the situation, but then he remembers who he is. He is CAPTAIN AMERICA, the living embodiment of the American spirit, fighting for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for not just all Americans but for every nation in which America has a vested interest. He loves his nation, he lives for its people, and he would gladly lay down his life a thousand times over if he could to keep her safe. He speaks with determination,

"When do I leave?"

"There's a quinjet on deck waiting to take you to Manhattan. Secondary briefing will commence there by secure-link. He'll be happy to work with you on something like this... Dismissed."

Captain America stands up to salute Nick Fury, then proceeds towards the exit of the war room.

"At least one of us will... Keep an eye on my memory banks will you? Stark has a bad habit of messing with things he really shouldn't."

Fury smiles as he returns the salute to Captain America.

"Don't worry, we won't let you come back any more scrambled than you are already. Knock 'em dead Cap!"

Captain America turns about to salute one last time

"Sir, yes sir."


End file.
